


Freeing Light, Breaking Stitches

by casinapolaroid



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Ending, Angst with a Happy Ending, Episode: s13e13 Devil's Bargain, Gabriel is a Softie, I Made Myself Cry, I Will Go Down With This Ship, M/M, Protective Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2018-02-16
Packaged: 2019-03-19 06:00:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13698303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casinapolaroid/pseuds/casinapolaroid
Summary: Alternate ending to 13.13 where Sam and Dean find Gabriel before Asmodeus does.In other words, Gabriel is alive and I can't stop crying so I wrote this because I'm sabriel trash. Lots of angst and Sam taking care of Gabe.





	Freeing Light, Breaking Stitches

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not actually caught up to season 13, but I'm pretty informed/spoiled, but if I got a few details wrong I'm sorry.
> 
> Please enjoy sobbing with tears of love.

Dean glances down at his phone as it springs to life on the table he and Sam are sitting at in the bunker’s library.

“Who is it?” asks Sam, looking up from his laptop and raising an eyebrow.

“Rowena,” says Dean in a surprised tone. He taps the button to answer it and turns it on speaker. “What’s up, witch?” he says with a smirk. 

“I see your manners don’t change in friendship, Dean,” she says in her familiar snarky tone. Sam snorts, as much as Rowena and Crowley were determinately at odds, there’s no doubt in Sam’s mind that they are—were, he internally flinches—related.

“I’d say friendship is still a bit of a stretch.” Dean sighs and drinks the rest of his lukewarm beer.

Rowena makes an indignant sound. “Whatever, but I think you’ll be quite interested in the subject of my call.”

“Get to it then.”

“Well, you know that Asmodeus fellow you mentioned to me you’ve been having trouble with?”

Sam leans forward in his chair, he and Dean making eye contact, both perking up at the mention of the name. “Yeah, what about him?” Sam asks.

“Oh hello Sam! You’re there too, good.” There’s a smile in her voice.

“Hey Rowena.” Sam can’t stop the corners of his lips from lifting.

“So,” Rowena refocused, “I’ve been snooping around a little with the help of some spells, listening in on Mr.Ass and his demon associates and heard them negotiating a deal for Asmodeus to obtain a powerful prospect.”

Sam could tell she isn’t too fond of the man. Dean squints his eyes, “Prospect?”

“Indeed,” she hums. “They said it’s some very powerful entity that the demons have had locked away for some years.”

“Powerful entity?” Sam furrows his eyebrows. “It must be pretty powerful for Asmodeus to be interested. But most powerful entities that we know of are dead or we’ve seen free recently.” Sam resisted shuddering at the thought of Lucifer.

“Jesus Christ, huffs Dean, “How many ‘powerful beings’ are out there?! I’m gettin’ tired of them, that’s for sure.”

“You’re telling me,” she grumbles. “Now, as of earlier today they haven’t been able to settle on a deal—honestly I’ll be surprised if they do before Asmodeus gets fed up and tortures the information out of them instead—but with the way it sounds about this entity I think you boys are going to want to get to it before he does.”

“Yeah? And how are we supposed to do that?” questions Dean. 

Rowena hums, “It just so happens that your talented witch friend followed the demons to where they’re keeping this individual—through magic, of course, wouldn’t want to scuff my shoes. It’s in an underground facility in Iowa, it was warded so I couldn’t peek in but I am positive that’s where it is.”

Sam and Dean raised their eyebrows at each other, Lucifer had told Cas that Asmodeus was really bad news. This was a chance to keep him from doing whatever he has planned. As for what it is he plans on doing with the being is beyond Sam, if it’s been held captive then it’s unlikely that it will want to help him—unless he tricks or brainwashes it, or even steals its power.

The brothers nodded in silent agreement. “So you want us to go to Iowa, break into a warded underground facility, and retrieve an unknown powerful entity before another powerful entity gets it and uses it for his evil scheme?” Dean asks.

“That’s your job, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Sam sighs, “it is.”

Dean smiles then cocks his head at the phone. “So why are you so interested in helping us anyway?”

“Because,” Sam can envision the grin she has on, “I’m Glenda the good witch now. Let me know how it goes, bye boys.” She hangs up.

Dean laughs. “How about that.” He shakes his head.

“Never woulda thought.” Sam smirks. 

A text blips on Dean’s phone a second later. “She sent the address, said ‘probably be smart to bring along those trusty handcuffs,” Dean mimics her voice.

Sam huffs a laugh. “No shit.”

“Well,” Dean stands up and claps his hands together, “we better get going before it’s too late.”

Sam closes his laptop and stands up as well. “I’ll get packed up.” He starts to walk out.

“Don’t forget the handcuffs!” Dean yells to his back.

Sam grins and shakes his head. “I won’t.”

\---

The Impala’s engine rumbles as the boys drive down a long, straight highway in Iowa. Sam stares out the window watching the wispy fields flash by, thinking over how to go about their mission and racking his brain trying to figure out who this being could be.

He reaches forward to turn down the Def Leppard track Dean has blasting through the car, Dean gives a grunt of disapproval.

Sam clears his throat. “So, who do you think this ‘mystery entity’ is?”

Dean hums in thought. “I dunno Sammy…maybe it’s Michael? I mean, he’s one of the few big and bads that’s still alive.”

Sam considered that, but he isn’t so sure. “I don’t know, when I first went to talk to Lucifer when Amara was a problem, he said that Michael was cowering incoherent in a corner of the cage.”

Dean looks over at him and raises an eyebrow. “Are we really gonna believe a word that comes out of that son of a bitch’s mouth? Who knows, maybe the demons got to him when Lucifer hitched a ride on Cas. They coulda been stretching about how long they’ve had him.”

“Yeah, you could be right.” Sam considers other options. “It could be a god, there are still a few out there, not as powerful as an Archangel but could still fit the bill.”

Dean nods. “Hell, it could even be some petri-dish creation of theirs—or even just a trap, we don’t know. We better be prepared for anything.”

“Yeah.” Sam gripped the demon blade in his jacket pocket. “We better make a plan.”

\---

They park outside the small warehouse-like building behind some bushes. The plan was that Dean would act as Sam’s bodyguard, and Sam would go find the entity and decide whether to kill it or save it. Dean has the demon blade and Sam has an angel blade and the warded handcuffs. They both load their guns and step out of the Impala as quietly as they can.

Sam scans the area, there are no guards outside as far as he can tell, the eerie quiet gives him an unsettling feeling. They creep up to a metal double-door on the side of the building, Sam tries turning the handle, but it’s locked. He pulls out his lock-pick from his pocket and jimmies it open. Grabbing the handle, he looks at Dean, who grips the demon blade in his hand and gives him a nod.

He quietly opens the door and peers into the building, Sam’s eyes search around the large, open room. It’s empty from top to bottom, the only light source the dirty sky-windows above them, trash is scattered about the cracked concrete floor.

Sam nods to Dean and slips through the door, Dean trailing behind him. Dean sighs as he looks around. “This looks promising,” he says sarcastically.

“Rowena said it was underground, look for a trapdoor or something.”

Dean kicks at the trash, lifting his foot up to present a pair of badly stained underwear on the toe of his boot. He gives Sam a look. “I ain’t rooting around in this shit.”

He rolls his eyes. “Suck it up, Dee.”

They both push around the trash with their feet, Sam coming across quite a few of his own cringe-worthy objects. Dean eventually finds a small trapdoor in the far corner of the building.

“Yahtzee!” He grins. Sam shushes him.

Dean leans down and flips the simple latch on the door and lifts it open. They climb down the ladder and into a dark corridor, their careful boot-steps making soft echoes, they lift their knifes defensively.

Sam breathes in controlled breaths and the scent of what smells like rotting flowers fills his senses. Soon the corridor splits left ahead of them, Dean flattens himself against the wall and peeks around the corner.  
He looks back around at Sam. “One demon, he’s reading a book,” he whispers.

He nods and Dean slips into the hallway, his steps silent as he sneaks up on the demon. Sam watches as he descends on the unsuspecting demon, clapping a hand over his mouth and driving the blade through his throat. It’s eyes and veins flicker that familiar orange before the demon drops dead.

Sam walks over to his as Dean wipes the blade on his pant-leg. They continue down that hallway for a few minutes before they see two demon guards standing at the end of the corridor where it splits in two directions. They pause for a moment to meet eyes, then charge towards them. The demons head simultaneously snap in their direction, their eyes flicking black as they pull out knives.

Dean leaps forward and stabs one of the demons in the throat. Sam, on the other hand, is smart.

He grabs the demon by the front of his shirt and hold the angel blade to his throat. “Where’s the being that you’re holding prisoner?” he growls at him. The demon face twists into a snarl and he spit on Sam’s face.

“I’m not gonna tell you anything,” says the demon.

Dean comes up beside Sam and gives the demon his dirtiest look. “I don’t think you understand. We’re the Winchesters, and one way or another, we’re gonna get what we came for.”

The demon’s eyes widen, and he looks between the two of them for a moment. “He’s in the fifth cell on the right,” he grunts, nodding in the direction.

“Good call.” Sam smirks, then shives the blade into his throat.

The demon falls to the ground and Dean turn to Sam. “Okay, now—”

Suddenly an alarm blares from all directions, the lights on the walls flashing red. Sam internally groans.

Dean shakes his head. “Knew this was too damn easy.”

A demon comes running at them from the hallway they came through. “You go get our guy, I’ll take care of these assholes!” Dean yells over the alarms.

“On it!” he yells back as he runs down the right hall.

He counts the cell doors as he runs past them. “Five,” he breathes as he lifts the latch on the cell door, pulling the handcuffs from his pocket.

A wave of emotions washes over him as he pulls the door open, ones that are not his own. He steps through the doorway to see the entity—the man, sitting bent forward. The fear from him seeps through Sam’s skin, he puts his blade away, he doesn’t think he’s gonna need it.

“Hey,” he says gently.

Thee man lifts his head slowly, and Sam gasps at what he sees.

“Gabriel!”

The Archangel’s eyes widen at the sight of him. Gabriel is covered in blood and wounds, his face and hair caked with it, and worst of all—his lips are sewn shut. Tears build in his eyes and his relief washes through the air.

Of all the beings it could’ve been, it was Gabriel. The one that Sam just couldn’t quite forget, couldn’t forgive himself even though he knew his death wasn’t his fault. The one that they’d had troubles with, but in the end, became their ally. The one who sparked something inside of Sam that he always squashed down.

After a moment, Sam broke free from his frozen stupor. He drops to his knees in front of the angel, tears were now slipping down his dirty cheeks. Sam lifts a gentle hand to wipe away a tear, Gabriel’s eyes follow it as it nears him, and leans into the touch as their skin meets.

Sam’s heart aches in his chest as he looks at the broken angel, his protective instincts rising as he hears yells from the hallway. Absentmindedly he stuffs the cuffs back into his pocket and reluctantly pulls his hand from Gabriel’s face so he can free him. Enchanted rope twines around his wrists, chest, and ankles, Sam scrambles to unwind it from his body, the otherworldly heat it gives off warming his hands. As he gets it off him, Gabriel slumps and lets out a heavy sigh, the emotions that swirl through the air dissipate.

Dean’s urgent yell startles them both. “Hurry up, Sam! I can’t hold them back forever—they keep coming!”

“We’re coming!” Sam turns and yells, internally cringing as the angel visibly flinches.

Sam looks at him and his eyes soften. “Let’s get you out of here,” he says gently.

Sam rises to his haunches and carefully slides his arm under the angel’s knees, his other hand going to the small of his back. He lifts him bridal style and Gabriel immediately curls into Sam’s chest, Sam can’t help the swell of affection that rises in him.

He walks back to the door and pokes his head into the corridor. Bodies litter the left side of the hall and Sam feels a pang of guilt from leaving Dean to fight them off for so long. The alarms grow louder as they step into the hallway, Gabriel’s body stats to shake. Sam pulls him closer to his chest. “It’s gonna be okay, we’re okay Gabe,” he gives him a soft smile.

Gabriel’s eyes seem to brighten at the nickname.

“Dean?” Sam calls down the corridor. His eyes flick nervously around what must be a dozen bodies on the floor, hoping Dean is okay.

Dean slides around the corner. “Come on, we’ve got to g—” He stops mid-sentence, eyebrows furrowing at them. “Who—?”

“It’s Gabriel.”

Dean’s jaw drops, then closes, then opens again. “Huh,” he nods, “not dead, then.”

A smile spreads across Sam’s face. “Not dead.”

He smirks back. “I think I got ‘em all, but we better get outta here before more decide to show up.”

Sam nods. “Let’s go.”

They trudge back the way they came in, the still blaring alarm starting to make Sam’s ears ring. Dean walks ahead of them, blade at the ready, his knuckles shine with blood in the low light. Sam has always been impressed with his brother, ever since he was a kid, but now, after his time in purgatory and having the mark—being a demon, sometimes he scares Sam a little. There was a time when a single demon was a big deal for them, now there must be at least twenty scattered on the floor. They’ve come a long way, and it worries him.

He struggles up the ladder, shifting the angel awkwardly in his arms. Dean, sitting above the trapdoor, reaches to pull Gabriel from his arms but the angel flinches away from him, wrapping his arms around Sam’s neck. Dean raises an eyebrow at Sam, who simply shrugs.

With Gabriel now holding onto him, he frees one of his hands to pull them up to the surface.

Dean stands and sighs a breath of relief, he observes his painted hands and self-consciously wipes them on his shirt. They jog across the building, passing through the door Sam and Dean squint at the brightness that greets them. Gabriel shifts in his arms and Sam glances down at him, the angel stares up at the sky, his whiskey eyes seem to absorb every beam of light that hits them. He turns his head, eyes looking in every direction, soaking in the clouds and treetops and closing his eyes as a breeze hits his face—then his sparkling eyes land back on Sam. Sam is suddenly stricken with realization, that once magnificent Archangel and Trickster god, who’s presence could strike fear and awe into any heart, was now this fragile and broken blood-soaked man griping tightly onto him. He was once so fiery that the demons who captured him had to sew his lips shut to keep his light from shining. Sam feels as though he holds in his arms a precious gift—something truly special.

Gabriel’s eyebrows furrow in thought for a moment, then suddenly brighten. He unwinds one of his arms from around Sam’s neck; he touches his flattened fingers to his chin and then extends them toward Sam—'thank you’ in sign language.

Sam melts at the gesture, this is not the same angel he met so long ago. “You’re welcome.” He smiles sadly, “I wish we would’ve known you were here sooner.”

The angel’s lips lift a little and he gently lifts his hand to Sam’s cheek. A wave of affection from him washes over the hunter, and he understands more that any words could make him. His fingers slowly trail away as they reach the Impala, and Sam immediately misses the touch.

Dean drops into the driver’s seat with a grunt and Sam climbs into the backseat after carefully setting Gabriel in, who quickly slides back close to Sam. He pulls the angel’s head to his chest as they pull out into the road.

Of course, though, Dean has to intrude. “So,” he looks at them from the rearview mirror, “How long have they held you prisoner?”

Gabriel looks at Sam, shrugging and shaking his head.

“He doesn’t know,” Sam says quietly.

“It’s 2018” says Dean.

His head snaps up to Sam, eyes widening in distress.

“It’s true.”

He looks down and sighs, then lifts 8 fingers up.

Dean looks taken aback. “Eight years? Since Lucifer supposedly killed you?”

Gabriel nods, eyes watering.

“What did th—?”

“I think that’s enough questions for now, Dean.” Sam gives him a look (a bitchface, really).

The angel buries his face in Sam’s chest, and Dean lifts his hands up surrenderingly. Sam looks down at Gabriel, he doesn’t want to cause him any more pain than he’s already endured, and if it was up to him, no more pain would ever come to him.

\---

Sam lays Gabriel down on his bed in the bunker. The angel wakes from his sleepy haze to sit up and look at him. 

“I'm gonna go get the first aid kit, I'll be right back,” Sam tells him.

He nods as he looks around his room, Sam's gaze lingers on him as he slips out the door.

He gets the first aid kit and searches through it to make sure it has all he needs. He's not looking forward to cutting those stitches from the angel's mouth, they've probably been there for years. Four years, thinks Sam, and his stomach turns a little.  
Sam returns to his room and sits on the bed next to Gabriel. He opens the kit and pulls out some supplies, the angel watches his hands, his eyes filled with hesitation.

“Okay.” Sam sighs. “Let's get your mouth first.” He grabs the small medical scissors and lifts them to his face. Gabriel flinches back and Sam feels a pang of guilt, he needs to be more careful, trama like he's been through makes defense instincts highten.

“Hey,” he says gently and reaches his other hand out and delicately touches his cheek. Gabriel slowly turns back toward him, shame in his eyes. “It's okay.” He gives him a soft smile.

He continues to hold the angel's head as he brings the scissors back up to his lips. Sam looks carefully and finds there are five threads, he takes a deep breath and starts at the left corner of his mouth.

The first snip makes them both flinch a little, Sam gives him a reassuring look and slowly snips the rest. Though the strings are cut, the stitches still thread through his lips. 

Gabriel's tongue slowly slips through his sealed lips, he cringes at the rough texture of the stitches and caked blood before looking back up at him.

“Hey Sam,” he croaks softly, and Sam melts a little at the ernestness in his eyes.

“Hey Gabe.” He smiles.

They gaze a each other a moment before Sam gets back to business. “I need to pull out those stitches, okay? You're gonna start bleeding and it'll hurt like hell, but it's gotta be done.”

The angel nods. “It's fine.”

Sam drenches a cloth in rubbing alcohol and gets to work on pulling them out. The sting of the alcohol probably hurts more than the bleeding, Gabriel hisses at every dab of the cloth.

Sam unwraps a sterile cloth and has him hold it to his lips. “Done.” He gives him a tight lipped smile.

“Thanks,” the angel murmurs.

Sam looks over him for a moment, he's filthy but Sam needs to make sure he takes care of any major wounds before washing him.

“Where are the worst wounds?”

“Well, everywhere.” He shrugs. “None of them are too recent though, but this one's the real bother.” He lifts up his shirt to show a large, blood caked wound, probably from repeated stabs of a blade.

Sam cringes a little at it, but it doesn't seem especially urgent. He nods. “I think we better wash you up first.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“I'll be right back.” he leaves to go turn on the faucet on the bathtub and comes back to see Gabriel's slid to the edge of the bed, his feet on the ground.

“Ready?” Sam walks toward him.

“As I'll ever be,” He sighs.

Sam reaches to pick him up, but the angel holds up a hand to stop him. “I can manage.”

Sam bites his lip. “Okay,” he says hesitantly.

Gabriel slowly lifts himself off the bed and slowly walks a few steps, Sam stays close to him. He takes a few before he starts to crumple, Sam quickly catches him and the angel sighs in defeat.

“It's okay to need help,” he tells him.

“I've never had any help in my life,” his voice shakes, “never needed any.” He stares at the ground.

Sam lifts him up in his arms, pausing, he looks in his eyes. “Sometimes it's good to have help, even when you don't need it.”

Gabriel smiles weakly.

They get to the bathroom and Sam efficiency strips the angel of everything but his underwear. He struggles to hide a blush until he notices the wounds and scars that cover his body. Anger rises up in him and he's pleased that Dean slaughtered the abhorrent creatures that did this to him. Sam eyes the purple ring around Gabriel's neck and his anger dissipates into sorrow. “I'm so sorry,” he whispers.

Gabriel nods and wraps his arms around himself.  
Sam bathes him and the tub quickly turns red. He's careful around all the wounds, he notices oddly shaped ones and can't even imagine what they're from. Sam pours shampoo into his hands and tries to scrub the blood out of his hair (now as long as his own) to try and get to the golden tones underneath.

Sam reaches for a towel as the water drains from the tub and helps Gabriel up to sit on the edge. The angel grabs the towel from him, the wounds still paint his skin red but his pale skin can finally be seen.

The hunter stands up. “I'll go get you some clothes.”

Gabriel dries his hair. “Okay, Samwise.” He seems to have perked up a little, Sam smiles at him before heading back into his room.

He pulls a dark green sweater from the bottom of his dresser as well as a pair of drawstring sweatpants and underwear. He jogs back to the angel, the smell of mint and ivory filling his senses as he enters the foggy bathroom. 

He hands Gabriel the clothes, after a moment he lifts an eyebrow at Sam and motions with his finger to turn around.

Sam blushes and turns around, bumping awkwardly into into the sink. “Right.”

A minute later Gabriel says, “I'm done.”

He turns around to find him wearing the clothes, they're baggy and make him look extra small. The angel lifts his arms up dramatically to be picked up, Sam obliges and does so with a flourish.

Gabriel laughs, a sound that fills him with warmth. He whispers, “All aboard the Sam train.”

Sam snorts and tries to hide his grin, unsuccessfully.  
They make it back to his room and Sam makes quick work of patching up his wounds. Once he's done he pulls back the covers and helps the angel under them. “You should get some rest, Cas and Jack will be here in the morning to heal you.”

Gabriel burrows into the sheets. “Who's Jack?”

Sam gives him a knowing smile. “Family. You'll like him.”

He quirks an eyebrow, but simply says, “Alright.”

Sam turns and begins to walk out, but the angel's voice stops him.

“Um, Sam?”

He turns around to see Gabriel sitting up in the bed, the large sweater hanging off one of his shoulders. Sam swallows, “Yeah, Gabe?”

He scratches the back of his neck. “Can you stay?” he says quietly, “I don't wanna be alone.”

Sam's stomach flutters a little, and it surprises him. Those small feelings he once possessed for the angel were easy to toss aside, but now they we're returning—different, stronger.

They stare at each other awkwardly before Sam finally responds. “Uh, yeah, sure.” He clears his throat.  
Gabriel smiles bashfully before scooting to one side of the bed. Sam flicks off the light, slips his shoes off, and climbs into the other side of the bed.

The two lie on their backs and stare up at the ceiling for a few minutes. Gabriel suddenly speaks, “Sam?”

“Yeah?"

Gabriel shifts on his side to face him, Sam turns his head and their eyes meet in the lamplight.

“Do you like me?” the angel asks.

Sam's chest tightens, and he freezes. He's not quite sure what he means, but Sam realizes he likes him in just about every way.

“I do,” he says softly, “a lot.”

And Gabriel's eyes shine as bright as the sun. He squirms closer to Sam and wraps his arms around him. “I like you too,” he murmurs into Sam's chest.

Sam feels his heart swell and one of his hands moves to the angel's face, lifting his chin up. “I'm glad,” he leans down and kisses his forehead, “'cause you're really special.”

Gabriel's eyes water, his hands suddenly coming up to grab the sides of Sam's face, and he kisses him passionately. The same affection that poured into Sam when they were in the Impala pours into him now. It blossoms into heady love and like sunlight it fills all the dark parts inside of Sam.

He kisses him back.

Eventually the angel pulls away. “Maybe we can help each other.”

And Sam knows they will, he wishes they had a long time ago—but maybe it was supposed to happen this way. The past doesn't matter to him anymore though, it's the future he feels ahead of them.

And it looks Golden.


End file.
